From Muggle to Wizard
by MugglePenguinLord
Summary: A Muggle on his way to live with his grandparents for a while ends up being tossed onto Platform 9 and Three Quarters. My first story, sucky summary, please review. Rated for language possible sexual references later on
1. Stupid Brits

From Muggle to Wizard

YAY! This is my first fanfiction story! I've had bits and pieces of a story in my head for ages, and I've finally decided to write it. But first things first.

Disclaimer: I do not own the Harry Potter franchise, nor will I ever (until penguins take over the world).

Rightyo. This is not a...what do you call it? Yes. A "Mary Sue". I have no deep, special powers I have to unlock to save the world, or any of that cwap. I am not related to any Harry Potter characters. If you disagree with something in my story, do not flame me. Slowly and calmly tell me what I've screwed up. I say slowly because people tell me I'm one fry short of a Happy Meal. Now let's get started.

CHAPTAH 1, BEE-ATCH!

Andrew Ranther was ticked. Uber ticked. His last report card had been less than satisfactory. He had still tried to convince his mother that F stands for "F, THIS KID IS SMART!" It had failed. No, not failed. His story had been shot down like Michael Jackson at a daycare. So now his parents were sending him to London to stay with his grandparents and attend a...shudder...private school. Andrew was a few months into the age of 13, with medium legnth dark brown hair and dark brown eyes that, when he wished it, could send out a stare saying Go To Hell.

_Stupid grades, _he thought as he got off the bus and wandered into the train station. _Stupid London, stupid Britian, stupid Brits, stupid private snobby-ass institute._He stopped swearing in that mind of his to look around the train station, and because I'm trying to keep the rating down. He saw old people, hot girls, old people, snobby people, little kids, old, snobby people, and a group of teenagers standing by a brick wall. "Oh, I'm going to simply lavish being a Brit for three years." he murmured to himself. "Yup. Nothing but tea, crumpets, and tea for me." He walked over to the group of teengaers, wondering if perhaps British teengaers weren't as bad as the older ones. Halfway there, however, a particularly large group of people in pointy hats bustled by him. It took quite a few shin-and-crotch kicks to get through them, and by the time he had made it through, the teenagers were gone. "Damn. I've got an hour till my train even gets here. What am I supposed to do?" He asked no one in particular. So he went to go lean against the wall which had been occupied so very few moments ago.

As he neared it, he swore he could have heard a train whistle. He looked around but no trains were leaving just yet. As he continued to search for the source of the noise, a large log stomped up behind him. Well, it might as well have been a log, for he was the same size, shape, and looked to have the same I.Q. "Get outta my way, midget," He growled at Andrew. "You're blockin' the platform." Andrew was perplexed. He was stumped. He was thinking _what the hell is he talking about?_ Andrew then put on his best British imitation. "Pardon me old bean, but I believe you are mistaken. Tis not a platform I'm in front of, it is a wall. Now, shall we forget this silly incident and discuss football over some fish and chips?" Bad move. Loggy pulled him up by the scruff of the neck and hurled him at the wall. Andrew crammed his eyes shut as he flew towards his orangey red doom.

End chapter one. So, whaddya think? Bad? Good? Sucktastic? Too short? Too long? Review and tell me!


	2. On Da Platform Dat Be One Fourth Less Th...

Okay. No one has reviewed my story yet. So I'm gonna go ahead and type up chapter 2 all nice and purty for you, you demanding bastards. And another thing: I mean no offense to anyone by using the word Brit. So please accept my apologies if I've offended you, and stop declaring 'football' games to the fact that MugglePenguinLord sux teh arse. Here we go.

**Chapter 2- On Da Platform Dat Be One Fourth Less Than Ten**

As Andrew flew toward the wall, many things flashed through his mind. His life was not one of them. So he crammed his eyes shut, preparing for death. And prepared. And prepared. And prepared some more. But Death wouldn't come, the bastard! Suddenly, Andrew felt a strage force wash over him, like walking through a wall of water. Then he landed on concrete with a soft, featherlike...bam! "ARRGH!" Andrew bellowed through clenched teeth, "GLUTES. IN. PAAAAAAIN!" This yelling of one's butt being in pain brought a lot of unwanted attention to our friend. So, when Andrew finally got up after whimpering for a while, there were many people in pointy hats and odd clothes staring at him. Andrew put on a nasty look and snarled, "What're you looking at, you freakin' weirdos?" And so, convinced that this was just another pain-in-the-ass teenager, the group of pointy-hatted, cloak-wearing citizens diminished leaving behind a lone girl.

She looked and sounded sincere, leaning down and offering a hand to Andrew, saying "Are you alright? Don't worry, something like this happens to most people during their first trip through the barrier." She gave a small smile and pulled Andrew up. Andrew rubbed his head (and his rear) then took a look around. Apparently, much had happened during the few seconds in which Log-Man had hurled him towards the brick wall. The station was packed with people dressed in the freaking strangest assortment of outergarments Andrew had ever seen. Pointy hats, cloaks, robes, peacock-feathered visors...it made Mardi-Gras look like a presidential ball. A grin washed over Andrew's face. "HA! Loggy must be as smart as he looks, he threw me in the wrong dir-" but Andrew became speechless at that moment, for it was the moment he had stopped staring around the train station and laid eyes on the girl who had helped him up.

There was no other way to describe her. Well there probably was, but Andrew wasn't one to read a dictionary often. Beautiful. She had long, bushy brown hair that was actually quite shiny. Her eyes were a deep, deep

NOTE- What color are Hermione's eyes again? I'll just say blue for now.

a deep, deep blue, flecked with lighter shades. She wasn't wearing makeup, although she really didn't need it. Her face was a creamy, milky peach color, and looked to be about as soft as peaches. The smile she still had from moments ago turned Andrew's innards to goo. Or pudding. And, Andrew noticed as he looked down, there were also a few other things that made her attractive. The girl's smile faltered, and she got a worried look on her face. "Are you alright?" She questioned him, "You don't look well." Andrew gaped at her, trying to speak, but no speakyness would come out of his lovestruck mouth. So he just nodded.

The girl spoke again, "Oh dear...it looks like you landed on your..." she attempted to suppress a giggle at this point, "...on your backside..." she rasped, her voice trying not to be full of humiliating laughter. Andrew was vaguely aware at this point that his hands were still clamped tightly over his butt. Andrew felt head rising in his cheeks. The ones on his face, that is. 'Um...yeah...this big log shaped kid tried to throw me at a wall but he kinda missed..." His voice trailed off as he watched the girl walk behind him. "Oh, that must have been Crabbe or Goyle. They're generally assholes to everyone," she said. "I was right, it looks like you damaged one of your muscles down there. Don't worry, I can fix it." Panic swept over Andrew after hearing this. "Uh, excuse me? You're going to fix my ass?" "Don't worry, it won't hurt or anything." the girl responed as she pulled a long skinny stick out of her pocket. Andrew did not like where this was going. The girl said to him, "And by the way, my name's Hermione Granger."

Andrew's eyes screwed up as he backed away from her. "Well Hermione," Andrew replied, shaking and backing away, "I'm Andrew Ranther, and, uh, it was nice meeting you but it, uh... looks-like-my-train-is-leaving-and-I-gotta-go-BYE!" At this point, Andrew was thinking _TO HELL WITH LOVE, THIS GIRL'S CRAZY! _as he took off running. Hermione, as her name was, gave chase for a few yards then shouted some incoherent babble. Andrew turned his head just in time to see a swirling purple beam of light rushing towards him. Moments later, it struck him right where the sun don't shine. It didn't hurt him, but it made his ass feel fuzzy. And let me tell you, having a fuzzy ass is one of the most screwed up things you can ever feel. He slowed down momentarily to look for something soft. As there was nothing, he fell over unconscious where he stood.

FIN! Okay, reviews now please, or face the wrath of a fuzzy ass!


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